Charcoal Wings
by Ninny-na
Summary: Castiel finally knew what it truly meant to be human. And it killed him. Though his freedom has been snatched, perhaps Dean can give him his wings back. / Destiel. Deep Friendship-PreSlash-Slash. OneShot. Future/2014!Dean and Cas.


Castiel was human. So very, _very _human.

The angel had never **truly** understood humanity till the day he found himself stuck in a body he could almost _feel _rotting away; the day he had to learn to make sense of emotions that enjoyed stinging and stabbing at the heart, mind and body of it's person; the day he discovered what pain _really _was: a monster that danced and tormented, always grabbing the first piece of skin it saw, reveling when it had a human or animal down to it's knees, cursing it's name, their voice being lost the self-righteous wind that blew past.

Cas finally knew what it meant to be human.

And he _hated _it. Hated his vulnerability, his limitations and restrictions, how _grounded _he felt. No more could he take off on a whim and explore or ponder, no longer could he gaze curiously at the statues of Greek Gods when he felt like it or investigate the remote rain forests that were slowly losing their dominance or simply _fly. _(In the beginning, he had acted much like a fly with his wings ripped off- bouncing and crashing, continuously trying and failing to gain height in the air that once held him so peacefully. That was the first time he truly cried- when he finally accepted the fact he would never reach the sky again. The second time was when he knew he would never see his family again.)

A dragging creak alerted the bright eyed man (whose blue's had been slowly dulling the day the angels ran away) to Dean Winchester whose green eyes focused firstly on Castiel's, that simply blinked in recognition, before flitting down to the bottle of pills that stood open in dirty, dirty hands. A small frown pulled his lips down then, his eyes darkening, and Cas couldn't help his curious mind from flickering and wondering what Dean must think of him. After all, he had pulled the Winchester from Hell, snatched him from the Pit, a feat few angels had ever done. And now he sat on the floor, stained with filth, mud, and blood, of a quickly built shack surrounded by it's siblings, wearing clothes that one might see on a Hippie, pills in hand all because of a thin scratch that lined his arm.

How pathetic the once glorious angel had become. (A thought that had claimed Dean's mind numerous time, always leaving a guilt heavy stone in the bottom of his stomach.)

"Hello, oh fearless leader, what can I do for you today?" Castiel's voice finally sounded out, rough and gravelly, so unlike Jimmy's high tone. (_Jimmy. Who should've died with his family when the virus lashed out. Jimmy. Who should be in heaven, not lost inside the vacant mind of a fallen angel. Jimmy. Who had been chosen by heaven. JimmyJimmyJimmy._)

A scowl formed on Dean's face, interrupting Cas's slight mantra. "You could put the pills away, that's always a good idea." the rogue grin came from Cas was so entirely _Dean _it made the Hunter ache for several seconds before the ex-angel placed the pills beside him, but did not cover them. This earned him a sigh. "Cas-"

A pause. Eyes that had began gazing about the lengthly hallway turned back up and paired with a head tilt, silently wondering what Dean was thinking.

"Stay there." came the sudden instructions before Dean spun on his heel and ran back from whence he came. Cas frowned of course, but listened, as he always had. (_He did and always will do everything for Dean after all._) The elder Winchester arrived once again not five minutes later, something black in his hand that was hidden from Cas's view, causing his frown to deepen. (He really, really hated being in the dark. It was what caused him to cry for a third time, when he discovered he could no longer read Dean and everyone else the way he used to. When he was lied to for the first time and _couldn't tell _that he **was **being lied to. It scared him, almost more than anything else.)

"Face that way." was the second piece of instructions when Dean came back and was accompanied with a vague hand flick to the door that sat several feet in front of Castiel, who raised his eyebrows but complied and sat nice and still while Dean moved to the wall that rested behind him. A silence grew after that, broken only but Cas shifting, and then been lightly scolded to keep still, and the scratching sound that was resonating from the black stick Dean had in his hands.

There were a few times the seated man tried to twist himself to investigate what Dean was doing, but he was shot down each and every time to _keep still_ and to _not look_. Leaving the man to sulk and drift off and remember the fourth time he cried, the day he had nearly had Dean killed. The day he yelled at himself for being useless and disgusting. He had nearly overdosed on his pills that day, and ended up with a bruised jaw. Not from the fight that had left Dean wounded, but from Dean himself when he discovered his angel had nearly offed himself.

"_Don't you ever fucking do that again! Do you think I would put myself in a situation like that to save your ass, only to have you come home and try to do away with youself? No! Fucking think about these things next time!" _

Cas, thankfully, had received the message loud and clear and never took too much pills again. On purpose, at least.

Finally, after a brutally silent and annoying twenty minutes, Dean stepped back. A stupidly happy grin on his face, leaving Cas to wonder if he had been at the booze again.

"Well?" he raised a brow. Dean suddenly looked rather embarrassed, the black stick twisting itself through his fingers. It was then Cas realized what the stick was: a piece of charcoal that was now worn to the nub. Cas knew immediately where it had come from: Sarah, the drop-out art student that knew Dean from a job far back. (_Sarah. Who screamed and flailed again Dean when he told her about Sam. Who had ran and disappeared for three days before coming back, eyes red and puffy. Sarah, who still refused to believe the idea behind Sam and constantly wished for his return._)

"Wait." Cas paused, his brows furrowing in the middle, making him seem deep in thought as well as slightly confused. "Were you.. were you drawing?"

Dean blushed. Actually _blushed. _It was light pink in colour, as well as extremely fleeting, but it was there, and Cas would never forget the look. Filing it secretly away in his memories, that really, were almost all of Dean.

"I.. uhm.. Oh, just look!" his embarrassment quickly turned to a flash of anger as the freckled man turned his head away, arms crossing in a position that was innately defensive. Castiel, for a quick childish moment almost refused to look, but was caught in a rush human curiosity and the strange need to constantly follow Dean.

Twisting in his spot, his clear eyes glanced up, his mouth open to spill out some sort of comic insult or to wonder what it was Dean felt the need _to _draw. The classic '_don't quit your day job' _was already about to fall out, but was immediately snatched back when deep blues took hold of the beauty stretching from his back.

Wings.

Elegant black wings arched high out behind the fallen warrior, beginning with the joint at his shoulder blades (Dean's accidental brush against him earlier was finally understood.) and flowing to a darkened pointed tip far behind him. "Dean." Castiel chocked out as he switched over to his knees and began to crawl down the wall, emotions that were to strong to put a name on sparked throughout his body, giving him a feeling of such elation he couldn't help but stupidly think he was flying once more. His heart drummed wildly against his ribcage as his fingers brushed and felt at the wall, sliding down the feathers so painstakingly, so _beautifully_, drawn. His head turned when the floorboards creaked again, focusing now on a awkward, suddenly shy, hunter whose was averting his own eyes, instead he wiped his nose and inspected a knot in the floor.

"_Dean._" Castiel whispered out again. His voice heavy with unrepressed emotions, ones that were blinding, new and frightfully wonderful.

Dean just smiled. And it was so pure and riddled with such happiness that it almost made Cas cry right then and there.

"All angels need wings, Cas. And no matter how far into humanity you sink, you're still my angel."

Castiel almost laughed. Dean Winchester, having a chick flick moment? Impossible. But that was a thought for later, when Dean wasn't staring at him with admiration meant for a deity much more powerful than he; when Dean wasn't looking at him like he was gazing at his whole world; when Dean wasn't saying silly things that made Cas's heart flutter, stop, and go wildly out of control all at the same time. No- now was the time for Castiel to get his sorry, self-pitying ass up. For the ex-angel to stumble as he ran for his last hope. For him to allow his tears to spring from his eyes while he buried his face into his Dean's stained green shirt and just cry, and cry, and cry. For him to cling to the man who could bring him as high as Heaven and as low as Hell.

It was time for Castiel to let go of what he once held and to remember what he had.

He had Dean, who had been through everything Heaven and Hell could offer up but still managed stand tall. He had Dean and with him, Castiel knew he could trudge through the slimy water so eloquently named _Humanity._

* * *

><p><strong>The idea of Dean drawing wings on a Human!Cas attacked me one day and refused to leave so I decided to do something about it. I was going to draw it originally, but then I remembered I have no artistic talent whatsoever. So I was left with writing it out.<br>First it was just going to be Human!Cas. Then it somehow turned into Future/2014!Cas. Then it was going to be Past!Dean. Then I just decided to say fuck it and made my own little verse where Dean isn't an asshat. it's a lovely, lovely, imaginary world. But I'm good here. xD**

**Anyways! Hai. This is my first Destiel fic, woo, so.. uhm. Yeaaah. I'll go nao.**

**Con. Crit is always welcomed  
>Flames will be used for s'mores.<br>Please review if you fav  
>and have a wonderful day (:<strong>

**As well I do in no way own any of these characters, nor am I earning anything off them.  
>They belong to Eric Kripke and the Supernatural crew.<strong>


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